


Shut up.

by Lauren_is_a_moron



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Telepathy, just a cute thing i wrote on tumblr last year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:12:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6410185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauren_is_a_moron/pseuds/Lauren_is_a_moron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sixteen year old Phil Lester has a unique gift. Since he was little, he can hear people’s thoughts. He learned to put up with it. Until Dan Howell came into his life and ruined everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut up.

He was doing it again.  

Talking. In his mind. Why do people do that?! Why the hell am I the one who has to listen to it? I was gifted, or rather cursed with the ability to hear people’s thoughts.  

With other people like my family and friends, it’s not that loud. I can only hear the thoughts of my parents mentally cursing themselves at a family barbeque or my friend Chris’s crude inner monologue.

I’d been too preoccupied with trying to hear my new form tutor over a girl, Louise was her name. She had been sitting on her own, fiddling with a bright pink pencil case. She had short blonde hair and rosy cheeks. Her thoughts were crying over the music in my ears. She was scared of making no friends and being outcasted. I felt sorry for her, I swear I did. But her thoughts were like white noise piercing my ears.  

 _So many of them!_ Louise squeaked in my mind. _Look at him!_ I had twisted around in my chair to follow her glance which had landed on the door. He’s quite cute. The frightened look on her face diminished and she adopted a sweet smile and started to dig in her bag for her purple notepad.  

That’s when her thoughts stopped abruptly  as she turned her attention to scribbling a love-note or something. I had rolled my eyes, turning back in my seat, discreetly corking my earphones back in.  

But with him, god damn his thoughts. God damn everything about him! I’ve had to put up with this since year seven. Since he walked into my form room on the first day of high school. I’d already gotten used to my strange ability at that point, and had learned to block it out with earphones.

_“Oh god..everyone’s staring at me! I can’t do this…I can’t do this. I can’t do this!_

That’s when I heard him. For the first damn time. I had no idea those few precious seconds before he walked into my life as well as my mind, I would never be the same again. I would know him before he even uttered a single word to me two years later when he had bumped into me in the corridors before my English lesson.

"Oops! Sorry mate!” he shot me a  fake smile before barging past me. At fourteen years old was he was different. He hung around with the popular guys with the dyed black hair and purple streaks. When he first made eye-contact with me his eyelashes were weighed down with eye-liner, his brown fringe obstructing his vision. He was the kid you avoided.  

 _“Fucking slow-walking people…”_ He grumbled in his mind.  

That’s why I didn’t like him.  

He used to sit at his desk refusing to do his work and doodling on the desk.  

 _Fuck my actual life._ He used to grumble to himself in his mind. _The world would be better without me._

I guess I felt so close to him, even if it was more his thoughts I was scared for. I followed him home that day. It’s not really stalker-ish if you think about it. I was only checking if he was going to do something reckless. But no. He trailed home with MCR blasting in his ears. He mumbled the lyrics to himself, kicking leaves across the pavement, his eyes glued to the ground.  

I crouched outside his house for over three hours. His parents weren’t home, so I decided to sit there with my head leant against the wall just listening to his thoughts as he walked around the house thinking about how crap his life was.  

_I’m hungry. Toast will do…_

_Did mum buy pizza’s?_

_This guy is fucking trolling me, I swear to god if he kills me one more fucking time._

That went on for about three hours before his thoughts went quiet, and I realised he has fell asleep. So after wimping out on knocking on his door and awkwardly asking if he wanted to hang out, I gave up and went home.  

_**“Oh god..everyone’s staring at me! I can’t do this…I can’t do this. I can’t do this!”** _

They were eleven year old Dan’s thoughts when he first walked into my formroom.  

Until that point in my life, I could to an extent, put up with peoples thoughts.  

But not him. Not fucking him. As soon as the tan boy with the brown eyes and matching shabby haircut walked in to classroom A34, I was automatically hit with his thoughts, so loud and distorted that I had to yank my earphones out. The calm melodic voice of Matt Belamy no longer drowned out his screaming voice at the back of his head. He was nervous. He wanted to run out and hide in the boys toilets. I heard his pathetic cries of fear and anger as he ambled over to a seat at the back of the class. The teacher was busy introducing everyone so I didn’t catch his name until it started again. Actually, he didn’t shut up. And it’s been four years.  

Four long years of hearing every thought his mind conjured up. Every crush on some girl or guy, every inappropriate sexual thought he had about our drama teacher. Every worry he had about forgetting to do his homework or arguments with family.

I heard everything.  

And now, in the present. 2015. Year ten. I can still hear him at the back of the class.

Sixteen year old Dan was a new person. A relief to me. He’s snapped out of the whole ‘Scene kid’ phase, and instead of thoughts on marrying Amy Lee from Evanescence and considering getting a tattoo on his neck, he mainly had random outbursts of laughter in almost every class. The majority of the time he spent getting sent out for making jokes and laughing until he had to go to the school nurse. He dressed in the casual uniform now, with his tie hanging from his collar. He still had the same hair style (minus the purple streaks) but his eyes were always on anything but the ground. He smiled at everyone and was what everyone called 'The life of the class’.

But, oh god. His thoughts this time drive me insane. It’s either logical equations completely irrelevant to the class, or existential worries. When he wasn’t making a scene with Caspar and Joe, he was bent over his work, thinking about the existence of the illuminati.  

 _“They’re real, I know they are.”_ He looks up from his work and I resist the urge to slam my hands over my ears. Biting back a groan  I force myself to concentrate on the work in front of me. Who signed the League of Nations? Concentrate god dammit!  

_“God, I’m so hungry. I need food.”_

He doesn’t talk to Joe Sugg or Caspar Lee his friends. He stares at the coursework lying in front of him and chews his pen thoughtfully. I’m not even looking at him, but I’m so used to that exact same damn demeanour. _“Right, so who signed the treaty of Versailles? It’s that guy..hmm. Is Joe still having that party tonight? How do I tell him I want to stay inside and watch Game of thrones? For fuck’s sake, he’s not an idiot Dan! What was that song Zoë was humming in maths? I really, really, really, really like you.. Oh god, no..not that song-”_

Gritting my teeth, I crank up the volume on my phone and his voice breaks up, quickly being replaced by some loud screamer band I didn’t know the name of  but managed to block Dan out somehow.

_“I need the toilet. What if I piss myself? Oh my god why did I drink so much ice-tea?!”_

His voice cuts into the music, and I swallow a growl. Would turning around and tell him to shut his thoughts up sound weird?

No. Of course it wouldn’t.  

_“Joe’s looking good today. Why does he do his hair like that? Fuck sake. I swear the Sugg siblings aren’t human…”_

Its took me four years to realise Dan is attracted to pretty much everyone. I catch him staring at Delphine Matthew’s back-side as she sauntered past in the tightest jeans she could find. Though I’ve also heard him going on about how good looking Duncan, his Food Technology partner, was. _“God, his dimples though?!”_ was a regular thought. I get so pissed off with his obvious attraction to Duncan, I’ve begged Caspar to borrow his deafening headphones and even gone as far as faking illness so I wouldn’t have to sit through two hours of Dan making mistakes like dropping eggs and burning his food because he was too busy fantasizing hanging out with an oblivious Duncan, who spent most of his time with his eyes glued to his phone on the iPhone app:  "Zigzag.“  

It’s easy to block out Duncan’s thoughts, as well as my classmates, but Dan is nearly impossible. I have to deafen myself to block out his irritating mind-singing.  

"Phil Lester?”  

“Mmm?” I whip my earphones out and look up to meet the teachers glare.  

Automatically, my history teacher’s thoughts overwhelm me and for once, Dan is quiet.  

_“Did Steven pick the kids up this morning? Oh god, how can he not know I don’t know about his affair with that slutty bitch Abigail?!”_

Mrs Mason’s narrowed green eyes linger on me, and she blinks. “ _Was he even listening to me? Why does nobody listen to me?! They’re all practically asleep!”_  

“What was I talking about?” Mrs Mason demands. “Phil, were you daydreaming again?”  

_“This kid needs to wake up and smell reality..”_

I swallow and nod. “Yes.” I say in a whisper. “You were um..talking about…the league of nations.”  

The teacher rolls her eyes. “We finished discussing that ten minutes ago, Phil. For God’s sake keep up!”  

Suddenly I can hear Dan. Clear as day.  

_“That’s a bit harsh.”_

The teacher sighs. “Joe, what page are we on? Enlighten Mr Lester, please.”  

Joe sends me an apologetic smile. “We’re on page….twenty five.” there’s a ruffle of papers and he clears his throat but he sounds uncertain.  

 _“I have no idea what page we’re on…”_ Joe curses himself mentally and groans. _“Great.”_

Mrs Mason sighs. “Page thirty five, Joe. Caspar, give him a little help?”  

I quickly turn to the right page and try and concentrate on the words in the text-book but Dan’s talking again. He’s talking in my mind and he won’t stop. He won’t stop!  

“Phil, you okay?” Charlie, the guy sitting next to me, looked up from his own work and frowned at me. His thought were almost always quiet. Charlie’s gaze is on the death grip on my pencil. The nib was scathing on the paper about to snap.  

“Yep.” I say between gritted teeth. Because Dan is staring at the back of Duncan’s head and thinking about inviting the quiet kid to Joe’s party. LOUDLY.  

_“Oh hey Joe, I’m not a gaylord or anything, but Duncan can come to the party tonight? I mean…he’s just a cool guy. With…cool hair and…cool dimples…well he’s just-_

"Miss Mason, can I go to the bathroom?!” I don’t mean to shout, but the minute the words leave my mouth, the classroom grows quiet and the quiet chatter stops.  

Mrs Mason doesn’t even look up from marking papers. “Go ahead. Hurry back.”  

My chair squeals as I shove it backwards and stand up, trying to hide the look on my face as I make my way out of the room.  

Tears sting my eyes as I trail down the history corridor and down the A block stairs, taking as long as possible. I even go as fair as shuffling along instead of walking.

For once, it’s quiet. The hallway is quiet, and I feel tears slip down my cheeks. The relief is euphoric and I want to break down. I manage to make it to the boys toilets and slam the door behind me as I walk in making little gasping noises to stop myself from crying. I wander over to the mirrors and dump my bag on the sink.  

I was cursed. I stare at my refection in the glass. I look awful. My face is a crimson red and my eyes are puffy. My black hair sticks to my forehead with sweat and I fiddle with it, positioning it in my eyes.  

When I’ve managed to stop crying and wiped my eyes with crappy paper towels, I lean into the sinks, both hands squeezing the taps. I listen to the silence, and start to cry again. There’s no voices in my head. There’s just the euphoric sound of nothing.

It doesn’t last long. Before I can even think about basking in sweet silence or hiding in a cubicle, the silence starts to break up, and before I know it, I’m hearing him.  

_“How could I have upset him? I’ve never spoken to him before!_

_But he looked straight at me?”_

Shit. I make a beeline for a cubicle, but he’s already walking in. He doesn’t stroll in, he ambled in with his eyes on the ground. He’s brought his bag and has even pulled his blazer on. He never wears his blazer.

“Hey.” he smiles at me and walks over to the sinks, leaning on them, trying to look casual. But he nearly slips. I open my mouth to reply, but his thoughts interrupt me. _“What’s his name again? Lester?”_

“I’m fine.” I say, or rather grunt before he can say anything else.  

“Oh!” he smiles back, and his fucking dimples stick out like hell. He clears his throat and messes with his hair. “Are you sure? Because you kind of freaked out in class?” he cocks his head to one-side and he looks fucking adorable. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he shrugs. “I feel like I’ve done something wrong? which is stupid because I’ve never said a word to you in my entire-”  

Something snaps inside me and I’m suddenly overwhelmed by anger for this dorky kid who I used to stalk because his thoughts drive me insane. And now here he is, standing there staring at me with wide eyes. I must be biting my lip because there’s the taste of rusty coins on my tongue and he mumbles, “You okay?”

_“Why’s he looking at me like that? What have I done? Oh god is he going to hit me? Why did I think this was a good idea, he’s going to kill me! Do I run? Oh god I don’t know what to-”_

“Come here!” I hear myself growl, and my hands reach out and grab the collar of his shirt. He doesn’t struggle when I wrap my arms around his neck. “Look, just shut the fuck up!” I yell before forcefully smashing my lips against his- oh god, just to shut him up. To my surprise he doesn’t pull away and in fact deepens the kiss. I feel his arms grope for my chest. When I finally pull away, his brown eyes are wide and there’s a massive fucking grin on his face.  

He doesn’t say anything, and we both stand there staring at each-other and I cant help smile at the dorky idiot.  

Silence.  

And one more thought, before he kisses me again. This time I embrace him and his dumb thoughts. I finally let him in.  

_“It actually worked.”_

-

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last year and people really liked it, so I thought "Why not put my fics on AO3 and Archive them?" so yeah... :P tell me what you thought! And if you liked, give me kudos? :P x


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